Trickster's Queen
by Anna de Boullans
Summary: What if Aly hadn’t made the choice she did at the end of Trickster’s Choice? Would Kyprioth let her off that easily? More importantly, would Sarai, Dove, and the raka? ON HIATUS
1. Home

**Title:** Trickster's Queen

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warnings:** MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TRICKSTER'S CHOICE!!!  IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO BACK OUT NOW!!!  *thinks*  Well, that, and violence, catty gossip, bedroom intrigues, and the usual sex, drugs, and alcohol.  And now I repeat, for the last time, this fic will ruin _Trickster's Choice_ for you, and the book really loses a lot if you know what happens at the end.

**Pairing(s):** Aly/Nawat (No.  More.  Bugs.)

**Disclaimer:** I feel bad about ripping off the title from Tammy, but then again, I'm not using this for profit, so it's ok.  Basically, now that I'm finished with _Trickster's Choice_ and have to wait a whole year for _Trickster's Queen_, I decided to write a version of my own...only slightly different.  Yeah, so, uhm, everything you recognize belongs to Tammy.  The storyline, however, is my own.

**Summary:** What if Aly hadn't made the choice she did at the end of _Trickster's Choice_?  Would Kyprioth let her off that easily?  More importantly, would Sarai, Dove, and the raka?  SPOILER ALERT!!!

**A/N:** Yeah, yeah, I know, I should be getting chapter 4 of _Sleeping with the Enemy_ out, but when an inspiration comes to me, I usually go for it.  Enjoy!  *grins*  Besides, I kind of _wanted_ her to go home with George at the end...pre-TC Aly seems quite interesting.

Chapter One - Home

            She was awoken by a ray of sunlight on her face, and the sound of birds chirping merrily outside her window.  The breeze coming in through her open window had the scent of spring on it.

            Lady Alianne of Pirate's Swoop was more than happy to be home after her eventful sojourn in the Copper Isles.  She had more than fulfilled her bargain with the trickster god Kyprioth in keeping the ladies Saraiyu and Dovasary Balitang alive through the summer.  They, along with their stepmother Duchess Winnamine and the native raka, were preparing for an outright revolt against their cousins on the throne.  She couldn't have prevented Duke Mequen's death under any circumstances; Prince Bronau's wound had been blatantly fatal upon its inflicting.

            The sounds of laughter and applause drifted in through the window.  Frowning, Aly pulled herself out of bed and stuck her head out.  Her brother Thom had come home from the university in Corus for a brief respite, bringing a large group of his friends with him, taking full advantage of the fact that neither of their parents were in residence for several weeks at the least.  From what she could see, her..._friend_ Nawat was showing the young nobles his skill at plucking arrows straight from the air.  When he caught one of Thom's arrows, she raised her eyebrows.  Her brother was notorious for being one of the best archers at court, his skill rivaling that of even Daine.

            She shut her window with an exasperated sigh.  If Nawat wanted to act all show-offy before her brother and his friends, that was one thing, but when it came to her parents, it was a different story.  Her father had stayed with them a few days before returning to court, but her mother had been up north fighting the Scanrans and had yet to be able to come greet her daughter.

            One of the maids entered her room and swept a nervous curtsy.  "Begging your pardon, my lady," she said quietly, "the young lord wishes that you join him when he and the other ladies and gentlemen go hunting."  She made the Sign on her chest.  "The bird-man has been invited as well."

            Aly resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  The servants were overly wary of Nawat, and Maude refused to be in the same room as him.  "Tell my brother I will be down shortly," she replied coolly.  "Also, send someone up to help me dress."

            It had been more than easy to revert back to her role as substitute lady of the manor from playing the slave the previous summer.  In her mother's absence, she had acted as her father's official hostess several times since her return, entertaining various lords, and, on one occasion, the royal family.  Sarai and Dove had sent sporadic letters, stating that they were having a wonderful time being back at court, but that they missed her greatly and were quite anxious about the impending war in their country.  

            She pursed her lips as her maid laced her into her favorite blue riding gown.  _They would have said _something_ if things were bad,_ she consoled herself.  _Chenaol or Ulasim would have instructed them on how to write it in code._

            Nawat was waiting for her in the main hall, also dressed for riding.  Her fashion-conscious older brother had obviously given him some advice, because he could have passed for the vainest of young lords.  He gave her one of his heartwarming, earnest smiles.  "You look lovely, Aly."

            She shrugged.  "That, or you're just not used to seeing me in nice clothes.  Either way, I'll take it as a compliment."  True, she _was_ pretty again (not that she'd ever been ugly), having had Kyprioth fix her nose and grow her hair back before she left Tanair, but it meant something to her that he'd thought she was beautiful back as a goatherding slave in the Copper Isles.

            A burst of noise and energy shot through the hall as the guests came in, joking and restless, obviously ready to get on their horses and gallop through the hills as if without a care in the world.  _They're scholars,_ she had decided earlier.  _They deserve all the breaks they can get._

            Thom came over and swept her up in a bone-crushing hug.  "Good.  I thought I was going to have to drag you out of bed myself."

            Aly pulled away from him, wincing at the pain in her still-tender ribs.  "Force me to go hunting?  Since when?"

            "You've been so strange lately," he replied, his handsome face almost innocent in its expression.  "Perhaps what you need is some distraction."

            Her eyes narrowed; her brother had some nerve to be pulling a stunt like this right in front of Nawat.  "I think not," she said tartly, twisting her riding crop angrily in her hands.  "And besides, I'm going back to Corus with you next week so that I can _finally_ be officially presented."  _And convince Da to give me something substantial to do,_ she added silently.

           He shrugged and turned to one of his equally good-looking university friends, the heir to an old northern earldom, and began talking unconcernedly.

            Nawat took her elbow and led her outside into the courtyard.  "I fear that your other brother will hate me as well."

            "Thom doesn't _hate_ you at all.  He likes you, really!  It's just..." she hesitated, trying to think of how to explain it.  "Thom and Alan have always been overprotective of me when it comes to males, almost more so than my father, and they're afraid that somehow I'll get hurt."

            He frowned and shook his head as he was apt to do when confused by what she said.  "Humans are strange, Aly.  Why would I hurt you?"

            She opened her mouth to reply when one of her brother's friends called to them from the stables.  "I'll tell you later," she whispered hurriedly as they walked briskly across the courtyard.  Nawat wasn't satisfied, but he kept his mouth shut as they got on their horses.  Luckily, Aly didn't have to pretend to not know how to ride a horse at home, and even riding sidesaddle like the other ladies she was perfectly comfortable.  

            Hunting was a success.  While chasing a stag, she and her brother engaged in a very Sarai-style gallop through the woods, leaving the rest of their party in the dust.  After finally catching the animal, they returned, laughing and breathless, to their friends, who with awe and amusement in their voices accused them both of madness.

            As they rode back to the castle, the peasants lined the roads to watch the well-dressed group pass.  They called out greetings to the children of their lord and lady, and pleasantly waved to the other courtiers.  As Aly turned back from greeting the last few, she caught a look of puzzlement on Nawat's face as he stared at the castle.  She followed his gaze to one of the towers, where men were running a very familiar scarlet and gold flag up the flagpole.

            "What are they doing?" he asked in wonderment.

            She shook her head in disbelief.  "Mother's home."

NOTE: Oooooooh, what will Alanna think of Nawat?  More importantly, how will she take the news that her daughter spent the previous summer as a slave plotting against a half-mad dynasty in an unstable country?  Hmmm...questions, questions.  So many questions that need to be answered.


	2. Of Mothers and Men

Chapter Two - Of Mothers and Men

            Alanna, looking even thinner and more worn than when Aly had last had a real conversation with her, frowned at her oldest son and her only daughter.  "I don't know what _you_ were thinking," she scowled at Thom, "bringing fifteen people here, unannounced, catching your sister and the servants by surprise."

            He shot her a careless grin.  "Mother, you need to learn to _relax_ and go with things.  We all had a few weeks off, so we decided to come here.  It was perfect!"

            "Perfect for _you_, perhaps."  She turned to Aly.  "And as for you, young lady, I don't even know where to begin.  Sneaking out at sunrise with little more than a note, being captured by slave-trading pirates, getting your nose broken and your face scarred, getting sold to an exiled Rittevon, taking part in the beginning of what's sure to be a full-scale revolution.  Goddess, if it's not one thing with you..."

            "Duke Mequen was a kind, good-hearted man," Aly protested vehemently.  "He died because some slimeball prince wanted to use his oldest daughter to gain the throne!  And as for getting my nose broken and my face scarred, I did that purposefully so no sick, twisted luarin nobleman would buy me for a playtoy."  She raised an eyebrow.  "I would think that you, of all people, know how hard it is to be the favored of a god.  Not all of us go around ridding our realms of crazed power-hungry royal dukes and ruthlessly ambitious Lady Delias."

            Her mother held her hands up in defeat.  "Fine, I concede.  I have no wish to argue with you, Alianne."  She obviously still had the annoying habit of using her daughter's full name.  "Now, your father was expressing concerns over the amount of time you've been spending with this Nawat character."

            Thom bit his lip to keep from grinning as his sister's jaw dropped indignantly.  "Da's had people _watching_ me?  I'm no fool when it comes to men, he knows that!"

            "He also knows you have a certain weakness for the young man, and that makes him nervous.  You're his only daughter, Alianne, and he doesn't really want to give up the notion that you'll always be his little girl."  Alanna shrugged and drank the remainder of water in her goblet.  "I'm sorry, but I can't sympathize with you on this one, since I was never in that situation."

            The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a golden light into the baroness's sitting room.  It was a room meant for sewing and gossip, but was instead packed with books, maps of Tortall and surrounding countries, weapons, and a set of gold-washed chain mail.  As George's study was completely his, this was Alanna's space and no one else's.

            Thom yawned, looking drowsy.  "Can I go please?  There's absolutely no point in my being here."  He took his mother's silence for assent, and silently walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

            After several uncomfortable minutes of silence, Aly admitted, "I saw the naming ceremony.  You needn't have been so angry with him.  He just didn't want anything to distract you in Scanra."

            Alanna's eyes narrowed.  "Your father and I are completely honest with each other, Alianne, no exceptions.  It never occured to me that he would be the first one to break that agreement, especially not when the issue at hand concerned one of our children."  She sighed heavily.  "It wasn't easy for me up there, knowing that you were gone.  I kept thinking that maybe you were injured, or..."  She shook her head.  "But that's all water under the bridge now.  I want you to introduce me to this Nawat, so I can absolutely assure your father that he isn't after only one thing."

            _He has gotten better about the mate-feeding thing_, Aly reassured herself quickly.  _Perhaps he'll have enough sense not to mention it in front of my mother.  Or, for that matter, my father when we go to Corus next week._  Every time the former crow _did_ bring it up, however, she would quickly quiet him and tell him vehemently that they weren't going to make any nestlings anytime soon, if ever.  He was still obdurate about understanding that human reproduction was quite different than that of birds.  He had actually been shocked to learn that she wasn't born out of an egg.

            As she and her mother walked together towards the rooms where Nawat was staying, Aly entertained her with the story of how she had told Duchess Winnamine and the rest of the Balitangs who she really was.

            "I _knew_ you weren't really a merchant!" Sarai had exclaimed excitedly.  "Your grammar was just too good for a commoner."  Her eyes grew misty and distant.  "I can't even begin to imagine what it's like, having Alanna the Lioness for a mother."

            "Not as glorious as you would think," Aly replied drily, causing her father to laugh.

            Dove viewed her silently, with a slight frown on her face, as she heard from her former maid what she had known all along.  Aly knew that the younger girl understood why she had hidden her identity from them; as the daughter of two so well-known people and the godsdaughter of the king, she was a powerful weapon in the hands of many.

            Alanna smiled sadly when she heard how much the four children idolized her.  "I do hope you told them that my success has been a result of very, _very_ hard work and many sacrifices.  Ask anyone who knew me back when I was still training, save your father and a few others, and they'll tell you that I was short and skinny, and no one ever really expected me to be so great."

            As if he sensed their approach, Nawat suddenly materialized around a corner in the hallway.  He gave Aly that special smile of his, the one he seemed to save only for her, but it faded slightly when his gaze fell on her mother.  "You are the one they tell me is the chief female of this household, am I incorrect?"

            "Yes, that would be me," she replied lightly, "although my daughter usually assumes those responsibilities in my frequent absences.  And that makes _you_ Nawat, the young man who came back from the Copper Isles with my husband and Alianne."

            "Alianne," he repeated, trying her full name out for the first time.  He smiled again, making Aly's stomach do somersaults.  "It's very pretty, although I prefer Aly, if you don't mind."

            "Oh, I don't," Aly said earnestly.  "My mother and my grandmother are the only ones who actually call me Alianne all of the time."

            Silence fell, giving her good time to make sure Nawat looked, well, presentable.  He had been almost dismayed to learn that he would have to start dressing like a luarin nobleman when we came to Tortall, but he had started doing so with grace and dignity.  Thankfully he and Thom, both tall and long-limbed, were the exact same size, so for weeks Aly hadn't had to do any more than steal her brother's clothes.  Thankfully, her brother's sense of style was impeccable, and Nawat's appearance seemed to satisfy Alanna, for which she gave a sigh of relief.

            He bowed somewhat jerkily, and offered her mother his arm as he had watched the other young men do to the ladies over the past few days.  Alanna, touched by his sweet gesture, took his arm gratefully and smiled at him.  Aly followed behind the two of them, crossing her fingers behind her back.  _Just don't mention the mate-feeding_, she prayed silently.  _Please, Goddess, keep him from bringing that subject up for the time being._

            Their mother came and went, as she always did, causing Aly and Thom to exchange hidden looks of relief.  Over the days she was there, Alanna hunted with them, allowed herself to be charmed almost senseless by Nawat, and devoted time to her project-of-the-visit: her wardrobe.  Thanking the gods it wasn't something involving raising walls, or building an entire new addition, the servants secretly rejoiced.  When their master was away, Lady Alanna's projects tended to be more and more extreme, the raising of the walls being prime example of that.

            Thom and his friends left on the same day she did, giving Aly an entire week to herself before she left for Corus and the royal court.  She was sitting behind her father's desk reading over intelligence reports when Nawat popped his head in, a hopeful look upon his face.  "I was wondering if we might go riding today," he said with great anticipation in his voice, "for I greatly wish to see your lands before we go for good."

            Aly smiled back inspite of herself.  "My _father's_ lands," she corrected him.  "And I'm positive we'll be back here before the summer's over; court gets so dull after a while, even when you've never been.  Let me change, and we'll go."

            Now that it was just the two of them, she dressed simply in a white gown, her hair hanging down her back.  They kept it at a steady canter as they rode through the countryside, not wanting to tire out the horses too quickly.

            Aly reined in her mare, coming to a complete stop overlooking the ocean.  She glanced up at Nawat and flashed him a brilliant smile.  "I bet you've never ridden on the beach, in the surf."

            "Why would I want to do that?" he asked her, confused once again.  "Won't the horses get wet?"

            She sparred her horse forward with her heels, knowing that he would follow no matter if he made no sense of her actions.  _It's sweet,_ she thought sadly, _but I could get annoyed with that awfully quickly._  

            They galloped down the beach to the water's edge, and continued up the coast.  Aly threw back her head and gave a yell of sheer delight as the water soaked her from head to toe.  She slowed the horse and jumped into the ocean, the waves crashing at her waist.  Nawat dismounted beside her and stared for a few moments as she splashed him playfully.

            "Come on!" she shouted.  "What's wrong with you?"

            He stepped closer.  "You're so beautiful, Aly."  He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.  She held on tightly as her knees had gone almost completely weak.  For several minutes they stood there, locked together, as the sun set over the ocean.  When his hands moved down, and he began to kiss her neck she threw her head back and caught sight of the castle above them.  _Da__ has them watching, _she remembered with regret, and gently pushed Nawat away.

            "I'm sorry," she whispered shakily, "but we can't do this.  Not here and now.  It's...hard to explain."  He continued to stare at her strangely, but oddly enough, his gaze wasn't centered on her face.  Her soaking wet gown clung to her body, and she realized with a start that it was white.

            Nawat, a blush tinging his cheeks, turned modestly away and took off his tunic, handing it to her.  She was equally red in the face as she pulled it on top of her ruined dress and began to trudge up the beach, her horse having wandered off somewhere.  He followed, although at a respectful distance, and together they made their way back up to the castle and across the drawbridge.  The men-at-arms exchanged knowing glances and hid smiles behind their helms as Aly passed them, soaking wet and covered in sand, wearing a green tunic over her white gown, her head held stubbornly high, followed by a thoughtful Nawat.

            After a bath, she sat down across from him at the dinner table and lifted her chin in a challenge, one that he refused to acknowledge.  They ate in silence, Aly not completely oblivious to the fact that none of the maids would meet her eyes, or the smirks they were sending each other across the room.  News of this, however blown out of proportion it really was, would certainly reach her father by noon the next day, either prompting him to return home or to summon her to Corus.  Although she'd have to face his wrath either way, she definitely preferred the latter.  There was much less a chance of him having Nawat hanged from the battlements by his own entrails that way.

            They ate swiftly and went their separate ways after dinner, Aly to the observatory tower and Nawat to...wherever it was he went.  

            "So, is this how you plan to live?  Going from one youthful indiscretion to the next?"  The speaker had an all too familiar crisp, light voice.  "I would have thought Lady Sarai's dalliances of last summer would have taught you _something_."

            "The only one really aware of said trysts was me, not Duke Mequen," Aly replied wearily.  "What do you want with me, Kyprioth?"

           The god materialized in front of her, looking exactly the same as he had the last time they had been face-to-face, wearing his "elder statesman" ensemble, or so he liked to call it.  "Aly, dear heart, don't sound so joyful.  I always keep in touch with my former associates, as your father would be quick to tell you."

            "Quick to _warn_ me is more accurate," she retorted.  "I never thought you'd be one to just stop in on old acquaintances unless you really wanted something from them.  Well, pity to you, because I fulfilled my end of the bargain, and you yours.  Contract terminated."

            "I'm a trickster, stirring up trouble is what I do best."  He flashed her a wicked grin.  "What if I were to promise you that if you were to accept my offer tonight, I would make sure that Daddy never finds out about his little girl romping on a beach with some young stallion."

            She wrinkled her nose distastefully at his colorful imagery.  "We were not 'romping' at all, and I don't think Nawat would appreciate the comparison."

            "Of course he would, darling, he's a man!  They're all the same, you know that."  He grew serious.  "And though you might have been doing naught more than kissing the boy, your father's going to hear differently, and it's your word against a castlefull of servants."

            Aly crossed her arms across her chest and viewed Kyprioth with great skepticism.  "Other than saving myself the trouble of having to face my father when he believes I've been...overgenerous with Nawat, what's in it for me?"

            The door opened, and a maid stuck her head out.  "My lady?  There's a message for you inside from his lordship."

            _Damn you, Maude_.  "Thank you, I'll be right in," she said quietly, but turned around to look behind her, swearing that she heard mocking laughter on the wind.  She shut the door firmly behind her and made her way back to her rooms, steeling herself for the worst.

            Strangely enough, the message contained nothing but a pleasant order for her to leave for Corus within the next three days.  Aly threw onto her bed and looked up at the canopy, her worry increasing with every passing moment.  George's easy-going temperament was as famous as his wife's hot temper, but his daughter knew him well.  When it came to certain things, like his daughter's relationships with young men, it didn't take long to get him angry.

            She bit her lip with worry, the cordiality of the note making it even worse.  What had Maude told him?

NOTE:  Ugh.  I really, really hated that chapter.  What was I on when I wrote that?  Ah, well, I like the next one…I promise it's an improvement.  This one is just scheisse.  


	3. Kyprioth's Request

Chapter Three - Kyprioth's Request

            Aly stood amidst the chaos of packing and scowled.  She had stubbornly insisted upon doing it herself, and now she actually had to face the music.  Court had its appeals, surely, but the luster had worn off significantly in her absence.  She sighed wearily.  "Kyprioth."

            The god appeared out of thin air, perched on one of the trunks.  He smiled engagingly as he watched her drag gowns across the room and dump them on her bed.  "I believe you wanted to see me, dearest Aly?"

            "Spill," she snapped.  "You've got something else you want me to do, that much is clear, now out with it.  And no wagers this time."

            He gave her a mock-pout and jumped to the floor with the ease and grace of a cat.  "Things have grown...complicated in the Isles, for the time being, and those vipers are going to cling to power any way that they can."

            She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.  "You didn't know that?  I could have told you _before_ we were first acquainted that Imajane and Rubinyan were snakes.  That being said, I know that Sarai and Dove are going to get dragged into this _somehow_, so just tell me how.  You want them out of the country for now, don't you?"

            Kyprioth sat down on her bed, his face for once serious.  "They are the raka's only hope, and I won't see them outsted by asassains, not under my watch.  Imajane has men in her service who can break through the ranks to the ladies' guards easily and right under my nose."  He looked at her earnestly, his face almost a perfect mimic of Nawat.  "All I want you to do is keep them safe for me.  Now, of course, there _are_ risks involved, given as Imajane and Rubinyan will more than likely be extremely..."

            "What about Winnamine?" she interrupted him, her voice sharp.  "Petranne, Elsren?  Or do you not care about them because they're luarin?"  She glanced up to gauge his reaction, but he betrayed no emotion whatsoever.  "Listen, Kyprioth, it was all well and done last summer when we were actually in the Isles, but this is a much more dangerous game you want me to play.  Bringing Sarai and Dove here is dangerous; not only to them, but to me.  And as for my family?  They're not used to the stakes you're talking about.  I won't stand for Imajane placing prices on _their_ heads."

            "Your mother is an enemy of state over there already, and your father is well accustomed to dangers such as these," he replied, brushing away her words with a wave of his hands.  "Bring the ladies to court with you; the young men will love Saraiyu, and Dovasary will be quite at home amongst the intellectuals of the university."

            Aly nodded emphatically.  "Oh, yes, that's a grand idea!  Why didn't I think of that?"  She swept a low curtsy, as if being presented at court.  "'Your Majesties, might I have the honor of presenting the ladies Saraiyu and Dovasary Balitang, of the royal house of Rittevon?  Their mother is descended from the old royal line, making both girls the potential fulfillment to an ancient prophecy that promises the return of the trickster god Kyprioth to this throne, and the regaining of power by the raka natives.  Did I mention that they're both under watch by Princess Regent Imajane and her husband Rubinyan?  Oh, and would you believe that they're both at the center of a civil war that has the potential to throw the rest of the Eastern Lands into chaos?'  Yes, I'm sure Jonathan will be most pleased." 

            "Fine, be difficult."  He grinned wickedly.  "But do remember, I _am_ the trickster."  Then, he disappeared with a poof, and Aly was left staring at empty space.

            _Gods,_ she thought disgustedly.  _Why can't they just let us get about our business?_

            Nawat had never seen a city before, that much was obvious.  He looked around with a wide-eyed awe that made Aly smile.  The wonderment with which he approached each new day was both refreshing and charming, especially when he turned those dark eyes on her.  It was easy to forget what awaited her at the palace as they rode through the market of Corus, Nawat asking a thousand questions a minute.

            Thanking the gods they both wore nondescript clothing, Aly kept a low profile, not exactly wanting to be recognized.  The resulting excitement would just confuse her friend too much.  Instead, she pondered what the trickster had told her, trying to decide his meaning.  Was he sending Sarai and Dove anyway, despite her objections?  While she wanted the girls to be safe, she also knew that harboring them potentially had serious consequences for her family, and the king and queen.

            With every step closer to the palace her horse made, she gripped the reins even tighter.  "Your knuckles are white," Nawat remarked casually as they passed the temples of Mithros and the Goddess.  "Have you reason to be tense?"  He smiled knowingly when she shook her head a little too vehemently.

            Not wanting to alarm him, she tried her hardest to relax as they passed through the palace gates.  Guards, recognizing the livery of the guards accompanying them, announced their entrance to those within.  One of the hostlers held the reins of her horse, while another offered an arm to help her down, which she politely declined.  

            "What about our things?" Nawat asked as she began to walk towards the doors.  "Did you forget?"

            Aly looked back at him and smiled.  "They'll be taken inside.  That's how they do things at the palace."  She placed her hand gently on his arm.  "Things are different now, Nawat, and I can't act as I did in Tanair.  Please, I'll explain later.  Right now I have to go see my father about...something of importance."

            They walked the rest of the way to her parents' apartment in awkward silence, Aly trying to think of how she was going to handle the explosive situation.  She opened the door and sidled in, in case there were people around, but the main rooms seemed to be empty.  A maid entered from the door leading to the dining room and swept a curtsy.  "My lady."

            "My father, is he in?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light and casual.

            "No, my lady, the council meets at this time."

            _How would a maid know when council meets?_ she asked silently, hiding a frown.  That would be something to ponder later, when she wasn't so...distracted.  "Thank you."  She turned to Nawat as the maid left and shrugged.  "That's strange.  I thought he'd want to speak with me immediately.  I know for a fact Maude sent him a letter..."

            "You mean _this_ letter?" a male voice remarked through the ajar door of her father's study.  Aly perked up; she knew that voice.  She rushed to the doorway to see her twin brother sitting behind their father's desk, leaning back in the chair, his feet propped up on its surface.  Alan smirked as he began to read aloud.  "'My lord,'" he began with salacious delight in his voice, "'it has come to my attention...'  Shall I go on?"

            "Alan!" she exclaimed, running to him.  He jumped up and gave her a crushing hug, which she returned with equal force.  Although not as tall as their father or older brother, she still had to tilt her head back to meet his disconcertingly violet gaze.  His hair was the same red-touched gold as hers, and he had their mother's eyes.  Whereas Thom, when pried away from his books and spells, was a good deal of fun, Alan was most often dreadfully dull save a few sporadic bursts of mischievousness.  Today he seemed to be in good spirits.

            Aly pushed back and scowled up at him.  "Wait, how did you find it?"

            He looked up at the ceiling innocently and took a deep breath.  "I intercepted it accidentally, and realized that if you didn't receive some kind of scathing reply, they might find it suspicious at home."  Despite his usually being an impossibly upstanding citizen, Alan was excellent at forgery.  He shrugged.  "You were about to be hauled up here anyway, so I figured I'd just hasten things along a bit.  You're not angry with me, are you?"

            "Angry with you?" she repeated incredulously.  "You're my favorite person alive at the moment!  Can you imagine what kind of hell would have risen had that letter successfully reached him?"

            "That's why I did it," he remarked flatly.  "You didn't think I actually _liked_ you or anything, did you?"

            She arched an eyebrow indignantly and told him, with very colorful language, what he could do, which surprised a laugh out of him.  "I see your sojourn amongst the lower classes had quite the positive effect," he teased.  He glanced over her shoulder and tensed.

            Aly turned her head and saw right away what had caused her brother's discomfort.  "Alan," she began tentatively, "this is Nawat Crow.  Nawat, this is my twin brother Alan."

            Nawat's friendly smile faded when he saw the stone cold look on her brother's face.  "Leave us," Alan told her.  "_Now_."

            Although it pained her greatly, she obeyed his command and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.  She caught sight of herself in a mirror and shuddered.  Travelworn and dusty was hardly the latest fashion.

            Her things had already been brought up to her wardrobe room and put away in a most organized fashion.  Aly was infamous for her requests that her gowns and shoes be arranged according to color and season, a system she insisted saved her a good deal of time.  She selected a silvery blue organza dress and rang for one of the servants to draw her a bath.

            She soaked in the hot water for a good twenty minutes, feeling her aching joints and muscles relax.  Her eyes grew heavy as she rinsed the lotions out of her hair, but a good pinch woke her up.

            Mora, her maid, was waiting for her in her bedroom.  She swept a small curtsy and inclined her head.  "Good afternoon, my lady."

            "Oh, don't be ridiculous," Aly replied congenially.  "So, what's happening at the moment?"

            Over the next several minutes she was filled in on the latest palace gossip: who was engaged to who, who was courting who, whose gown had caused a stir at a party the week before.  It appeared that little had changed.  She was excited to hear that the crown princess was expecting her first child sometime in the winter, although it was frightening to think that the king and queen would be grandparents.

            Prince Roald was hosting a small party that night for close friends and family, and Thom was practically forcing her to go.  Ever since he had met Nawat, it had become his personal mission to introduce his little sister to every young nobleman in the realm.

            "They've all been asking about you," Mora told her pointedly as she began to lace the bodice of the gown.  "Suck in.  It's quite the fashion to have a tiny waist nowadays.  Anyway, I've heard that a few are even serious, especially Kentar of Ormane."

            Aly wrinkled her nose and shook her head in protest.  "I should hope not.  Kentar is just like his father: patronizing, womanizing, and notoriously conservative.  The Ormanes wouldn't want me as mother to their precious sons."

            "It would be a good political move," the maid said matter-of-factly.  "You are the godsdaughter of the king and queen.  Your parents are influential and wield vast power.  The earl of Ormane is in great disfavor with the king, and you bring Jonathan's blessings.  Would the match be so horrible?  Lord Kentar is handsome and well-liked, and his family is wealthy.  Such a marriage would make you a countess.  Your father might not refuse such an offer, and then you would have no choice."

            Aly was silent as she pondered that, and although she highly doubted her father would do something like that, a lingering succession of what ifs hovered at the back of her mind.

            "There."  Mora stood back to admire her handiwork.  "You look lovely, Lady Aly.  The other girls will be pea green with envy."  She handed over the matching headpiece, a fashion that had come over from the west, called a French hood.  Aly liked them far more than the gable hoods that had been in style before she left; she found them far less dowdy and matron-like.

            "I suppose I'd better go see if Nawat is still alive," Aly said reluctantly.  "Alan looked to be in a foul temper."

            "The young man is fine," a familiar voice quipped, "and don't _you_ look lovely.  Quite an improvement over last summer, if I do say so myself."

            She scowled and turned around to see the god leaning casually against the wall.  Her maid looked frozen, her body completely still.  "What do you want, Kyprioth?"

            He straightened and shot her a crooked grin.  "Nothing, my dearest lady, other than to say hello.  I miss your sarcasm and your fresh outlook on life.  Don't think that just because our wager is through I'm finished with you.  I'm a god, remember?"

            "You make it impossible to forget," Aly replied wearily.  "You've got something hidden up your sleeve, I can smell it, and I'm thinking that I'm not going to be very pleased when I find out what it is.  Is this some kind of warning?"

            Kyprioth winked at her and disappeared with a pop, as if he'd never been there.  She gave a disgusted sigh and waved a farewell to the now-reanimated Mora before sweeping out of the room.  She poked her head into her father's study to find it completely empty.  _Damn_, she cursed silently.  _Where did they go?_

            She set off in search of Nawat, knowing that her brother had other responsibilities.  She was rounding a corner in the state wing of the palace when she collided into someone.  Before she could apologize, she found herself looking up into the eyes of a very familiar young gentleman: Kentar of Ormane.  Golden-haired and blue-eyed, he posessed a sort of beauty that was sung about in the old ballads of epic heroes and gods, although his eyes were disconcertingly cool and calculating.  Outwardly, he was perfect.  Outwardly.

            A small smile crossed his face as he brought her hand to his lips.  "Look who has returned to us at last.  Your strange disappearance caused quite the stir, I assure you, which I know you are glad to hear."

            His arrogance had been chafing before, and was even more so now that she was older and more seasoned in the ways of the world.  She shrugged nonchalantly, determined not to let him get the better of her.  "What the gossips say means little to me anymore, my lord.  I'm hardly a child."

            Kentar offered her his arm and nodded understandingly.  "You _are_ wise, at the ripe old age of seventeen."

            Aly bit her lip to keep back the angry retort as they strolled down the hallway towards one of the oft-used public staircases of the palace.  They walked in comfortable silence.

            "I heard the most interesting news," he said suddenly, startling her.  "My uncle Rubinyan made mention of an extraordinary young woman he heard of in the Copper Isles, a slave in the house of the late Mequen Balitang."

            "Your uncle is Rubinyan Jimajen?" she asked him quickly, forgetting herself.  "As in the prince regent?  Married to Princess Imajane?"

            Kentar frowned at her.  "You did not know that?  My mother was born Princess Yvanne Jimajen.  She came over with Princess Josiane and married my father soon after."

            She mentally cursed herself; of _course_ she knew that.  Countess Yvanne had died shortly after giving birth to her only child, and her husband had remarried after a scandalously short time.  Alanna had told her that poison was suspected, although all investigations into the matter came to naught.  _Well _this_ puts a new spin on things_, she thought unhappily.  _Kentar of Ormane is a Jimajen, no matter what the circumstances surrounding his mother's death were, and he is in contact with Prince Rubinyan.  He could prove useful._  Then the second part of his words hit her like a ton of bricks.  _Wait, does he know that I'm the girl Rubinyan was talking about?_

            Kentar could see the wheels turning in her head, and marked her momentary lapse into silence as a sort of confession.  "See here, Alianne of Pirate's Swoop," he hissed, pushing her into a niche rather roughly, "stay out of my family's affairs.  You might find yourself in a rather compromising situation should you not heed my warning."

            She looked up at him innocently, her hazel eyes deceptively wide.  "I have no clue as to what you're talking about, Kentar."

            He scowled and released her, stepping back.  "Consider yourself warned.  I won't do it again."

            "Kentar of Ormane is a Jimajen," Aly whispered to her brother at the party that evening.  She waved her fan casually back and forth as not to gain any attention.  "His aunt and uncle..."

            "I know who Rubinyan and Imajane are," Thom snapped back irritably.  "That doesn't mean their nephew is supporting them.  Besides, Yvanne died too soon for her son to feel any true Islander influence.  He's more of a Tortallan than you are."

            "Fine, well, if you're not going to listen to me than there's no point in talking, is there?"  She stalked off without a backwards glance, edging past Daine and Nawat, who were so deep in conversation that they didn't notice her.  She exchanged a few polite words with Liam and his bride-to-be, and said hello to most of her old friends.  Their brightly curious eyes revealed the questions they longed to be asking, but propriety dictated that they not press the subject.

            She felt a hand tug her elbow; it was Kentar, looking particularly resplendent in scarlet-trimmed white, the colors of his house.  He looked slightly apologetic while still managing to have an aura of arrogance.  "My lady, I would beg your forgiveness for my behavior this afternoon.  It was most brash of me."

            Aly frowned; since when did Kentar of Ormane offer public apologies to anyone, least of all a woman?  "While your apology is accepted, my lord, I must insist that this is highly unnecessary.  Why seek me out in public?"

            He shot a quick look across the room that was obviously meant to be covert, but her sharp eyes didn't miss much.  She followed his gaze to where her father stood conversing rather seriously with the earl of Ormane.  It took all of her willpower to keep from screaming out loud.  She whirled around to glare at Thom, who just stared guiltily back.  "I'm sorry," he mouthed.

            _Sorry?_ she thought furiously.  _He's _sorry?!?!_  Since when have I had no say in my life?_

NOTE: Well, well, well.  Would George do something so sneaky and evil, you ask?  Answer: absolutely.  This is his only daughter we're talking about, never mind how sweet and nice Nawat is.  Seriously.  Besides, welcome to the Middle Ages.  Although Alanna and George are _highly_ unconventional, marriages of the nobility are affairs of state.  Most of the time it's not about love, if ever.

Actually, I just wanted a way to split up Aly and Nawat.  In the Copper Isles, they went well together, but now it just doesn't seem right for some reason.  Yes, I know I said in the beginning that this story would be Aly/Nawat, and it was (for a time, anyway), but now I'm exercising my divine right as the author to go back on my decision.  Nawat has been politely warned by an ever-politic Alan to stay away from his sister, and his crow intuition will make sure he does just that.

As for the question of whether or not Aly actually goes through with what her family tells her to do, that is...up to me!  *smiles*  Oh, and to clarify something, yes, Alan squealed.  Sort of.  He gave the letter to George like any gentleman of honor would.  The maintaining of his sister's reputation is far more important than their relationship in this world.


	4. Sneaking Suspicions

Chapter Four - Sneaking Suspicions

            Her parents couldn't stay angry with her forever, Aly had decided.  Once they got over it, she'd convince them to break off the contract--there was no better word for it--with Ormane.  She spent the entire day in her room, feigning heartbreak and uncontrollable grief.  Only her preternaturally perceptive older brother saw through her facade.

            "You should be an actress," Thom declared, sitting across from her in her parlor.  He had stopped by on his way to a lecture at the university, dressed impeccably in dark blue silk, with an unusually sympathetic look on his face.  "I swear, sister, you've fooled almost everyone."  He stood up slowly and stretched.  "Gods, I'm positively _exhausted_.  You are coming to the countess's party tonight, aren't you?"

            Aly shook her head.  "I'm prostate with grief, remember?  I've got an act to keep up."

            He gave a sigh of exasperation mixed with disgust.  "Just don't let them catch you sneaking out this time, all right?  They'll be incensed."

            "Oh, I don't intend to," she whispered after he'd left.  And indeed she didn't.  She pretended to be asleep when Mora tiptoed in to check on her, and waited for at least a half hour after her parents had left for whatever social event they were attending.  Only then did she rise and pull out the clothes she'd hidden under the bed.  Plain black shirt, black tunic, black breeches, knee-high black riding boots.  She carried two sharp daggers at her waist, and two more on her forearms, hidden by the long sleeves.  She braided her hair simply, grabbed her black half-mask and black cloak, and silently slipped out her bedroom door, through the parlor, and into the hallway.  She moved stealthily through the halls, avoiding nobles and servants, ducking into corners when she heard someone coming.

            Aly breathed a sigh of relief once she was outside the palace walls.  She tied the mask around her head and set off at a swift run towards the district where various nobles had their townhouses.  She found the Ormane house easily, and walked casually around back.  The back garden was surrounded by a tall, imposing brick wall, but she could have scaled it as a child.  She was up and over in a matter of seconds, pausing only for a moment at the bottom to adjust her tunic before she tiptoed towards the house.

            Getting inside was going to be harder than she had previously thought.  Although the earl's rooms were dark, lights blazed in Kentar's windows.  She cursed silently, having counted on him to be attending the same party her brother had mentioned earlier.

            There!  She spotted an ajar window on the bottom floor and made a beeline for it.  She crouched underneath the sill for several moments before fully satisfied that the coast was clear.  She climbed in, her practiced movements graceful like a cat.  She straightened slowly, surveying the room while in the shadows.

            It looked to be an informal dining room, probably where the family ate on most occasions.  Aly silently crossed the room, her eyes darting back and forth the entire time.  It was imperative that she find out if the Ormanes were involved in the treacherous deeds of the Jimajens and Rittevons, but she also couldn't be caught at any cost.  Her pulse quickened as the adrenaline rushed through her veins.  She loved a good challenge.

           She listened for several moments at the door, making sure no maidservants were about before climbing a narrow staircase.  She found herself on the main floor, and gave a sigh of relief.  She had attended countless balls and parties at the Ormane residence; now she knew where she was going.  As she crept towards the staircase leading to the upper levels, she found it strange that she had yet to encounter any servants.  Normally a household of this size would be crawling with them.  She offered up a silent prayer to Kyprioth, asking him to see her through this venture safely.  She heard in her mind a sort of amused chuckle, and knew that he had heard her plea.  Now it was just a matter of whether he acqueisced or not.

            On the third floor, Aly headed down a dark hallway towards the earl's rooms.  She opened doors slowly and silently until she found what looked to be his study, and entered, heading straight for the desk.

            Although the room was dark, moonlight spilled through the window and allowed her to read the papers strewn about.  She almost yelled with joy when she read the one on top.  _My dearest brother-in-law Rubinyan_, it began.  She was reaching to pick it up when she felt something cold and uncomfortably sharp on her neck.  "Move, and I'll cut your throat," a male voice hissed in her ear.

            Aly froze.  Kentar was good; she hadn't even heard him enter behind her.  "Now turn around, slowly," he ordered.  "Make any sudden moves, reach for any weapons, and I _will_ kill you.  Do you understand me?"

            She turned slowly, putting her hands up in the air as she did.  He reached out, ripped off the mask, and stepped back in shock, a mix of fury and disbelief showing on his face.  "_You_?"

            She tossed her head imperiously and remained silent.  _It's going to take a miracle to get me out of this,_ she thought, disgusted with her useless patron.  _Thanks a million, Kyprioth._

            _You are ever so welcome,_ the god's voice sounded in her head.

            Kentar stepped forward and roughly shoved her into a chair, turning around only to light the fire with his Gift.  He whirled back around and scowled at her, crossing his arms across his chest.  "Well?"

            "Well what?" Aly replied tartly, trying to mask her fear.  He wanted an explanation, and she would give him one.  "Just because I'm a woman doesn't make me stupid, Kentar.  I know what's going on in the Copper Isles, the games your family is playing.  I wanted to make sure you weren't mixed up in that mess."

            "I warned you to stay out of those affairs," he growled.  "It's none of your concern."

            She raised her eyebrows.  "Actually, if I'm going to be your wife, it _is_ my concern."

            He flushed with anger.  "I won't have a wife who's more curious then she ought to be.  Honestly, Alianne, this is disgraceful, sneaking around my house like a spy, dressed like a man.  Do you have no sense of propriety?"

            "Your attempts at hitting me below the belt are failing miserably."

            "If I weren't a gentleman I would strike you!" he snapped in frustration.

            She was on her feet with a dagger in her hand quick as lightning, pointing the sharp blade at his throat.  "Hear this, Ormane," she hissed venemously, "should you ever even _think_ to lay a hand on me, I will kill you, do you understand me?  I won't take you in front of the priestesses, nor will I bring it up with the king.  I will kill you myself, and enjoy every moment of watching you die.  I am no man's property, nor will I be treated as such."

            He stepped away from her, lowering his sword, an amused smile coming to his face.  "You're incredibly attractive when you're angry, did you know that?"

            Aly crossed her arms indignantly after she had sheathed the knife.  "Don't start with me, really.  I'm not in the mood."

            "Like the Western goddess of the hunt," he continued, ignoring her.  "Beautiful, bathed in moonlight, so tempting to a vulnerable man."  He leaned towards her slowly, and she shut her eyes and tilted back her head out of instinct.  Right before his lips would have touched hers, he whisepered, "And a lump of ice beating in her chest, incapable of any true passion."

            She swatted at him half-heartedly, quickly tiring of their verbal sparring.  "Fine, I see my attempt at breaking and entering failed miserably, and I'll leave now.  Off to the palace, and to my nice, warm bed."

            "You're not going to bed, not yet anyway.  No, I think we'll go to the countess's party, you and I.  Together, like the happily betrothed pair we're pretending to be."  He laughed at the look to refusal on her face.  "Oh, but my lady, you don't have much choice, or I'll tell everyone about your little escapade, and you'll be ruined.  Wouldn't that be awful?"

            She wrinkled her nose indignantly.  "This is blackmail, you son of a bitch."

            "Oh, I know, and I'm enjoying every moment of it."

            "I'm not dressed for a party."

            Kentar laughed.  "Oh, but my darling, you forget that I have sisters.  They're at home right now, overseeing the summer planting season so that my father and I can remain here at court, making sure bold women aren't breaking into our house and snooping through our private mail.  I'm sure they won't mind their future sister-in-law borrowing one of their gowns for one night!"

            And so she found herself, a half hour later, being handed into the carriage by one of the footmen, dressed in a pink gown.  It was the only one she'd found that wasn't several seasons out of date, and she nervously adjusted the matching hood as she waited for Kentar.  He slid in beside her, and they were off towards the palace.  She turned away from him and looked out the window at the various temples.

            "You don't have to be so angry with me," he remarked casually as they snaked up towards the palace.  "Besides, soon we won't have to deal with this folly the entire year.  I intend on returning back to the estates after the wedding and residing there for a good portion of the year.  I've always thought it's better for young boys to grow up away from the chaos of court, don't you agree?"

            Aly rolled her eyes.  "You speak of these sons as if we already have them, my lord.  I have no intention whatsoever of marrying you, and I plan on talking my parents out of this ridiculous mess once their anger with me has subsided some."

            "I see.  Well then, we'll just have to arrange for the ceremony to be sooner rather than later, won't we?"  The carriage came to a halt, and he exited the door the footman had opened.  He extended a hand towards her, which she took without comment.

            The dowager countess of King's Reach was a popular hostess, and her famous parties were always well-attended by the cream of Tortallan society.  After her husband's death, she had ceased giving them, and this was her first such fête since coming out of mourning.  Aly had no doubt that, as her brother would have put it, everyone who mattered would be there.

            She had rented one of the smaller, more intimate ballrooms for the evening, and it was decorated in pale lavender and white.  Upon their entrance, they were met with a sudden outburst of noise, the source of which being a large group of squealing young ladies.  Aly ignored their exclamations, looking out over the room to see who was there.  The king and queen had thrown a smaller, more exclusive dinner for their closest friends and advisors, so her parents weren't there, nor were other older courtiers.  Prince Roald and Princess Shinkokami were in the middle of what looked to be a serious conversation with Faleron, now earl of King's Reach.  Prince Liam and Thom seemed to be animatedly and comically recreating some sort of duel for a delighted group of their friends.  She was assessing the rest of the crowd when the hostess swooped in.

            The countess was an elegant woman of about her mother's age.  She smiled kindly at the pair of them.  "What a lovely couple you two make!" she cried joyfully.  "Everyone is waiting most anxiously to hear whether or not a date has been set!"

            Kentar only glanced at her for a moment before turning back to Faleron's mother.  "That decision is between our parents, my lady.  Now, I'm sure you've already heard this a thousand times, but this party is simply..."

            Aly tuned him out, plastering an empty courtier's smile on her face.  She greeted those she knew well by name, and nodded politely to those she didn't.  It was an eclectic group that night.  Apparently the countess was trying to shake her reputation of being an overly-exclusive snob.

            The musicians struck up a lively galliard, and the countess clasped her hands together in delight.  "Oh, you two must lead the set!  How romantic!  Go on, go on..."  She nudged Aly and Kentar out onto the floor.

            It was a fast-paced and complex dance, one that required concentration, for which Aly was grateful.  She moved gracefully with the music, avoiding the curious gaze of her partner.  When the set was over, he steered her by the elbow towards an alcove out of the way of everyone.  "You looked like you were thinking hard about something," he started.

            "Since when are my thoughts any of your business?" she asked indignantly.  He gripped her firmly but gently under the chin and forced her to meet his clear blue eyes.  "You didn't seem to be enjoying yourself.  I was just curious."

            "Yes, well, keep your queries to yourself in the future!"  Aly stepped back from him and scowled.  "I've had enough of this...this folly.  Just leave me alone, Kentar of Ormane!"

A/N: Hey, even if y'all don't, I like Kentar.  He's a very conflicted guy, as you'll see later on in the story.  He comes off as a jerk in this chapter, but he'll have his moments.  Trust me on this one!

So what's up with Nawat, you ask.  No, this is not an Aly/Nawat story, although there _will_ be more romantic fluffiness to come, especially when our Copper Isles characters reenter the scene.  It's not that I don't like Nawat, it's just that I don't think he and Aly are a good match.  She'd get sick of him in a week, if that.  Besides, he plays an extremely interesting role in this story, much more so than he would be able to if he were romantically involved with our heroine.  Bittersweet?  Absolutely.


	5. Painful Goodbyes

Chapter Five - Painful Goodbyes

            Early the next morning, Aly sought Nawat out and found him practicing archery with some of the Queen's Riders.  His eyes filled with pain, he agreed to come riding with her, and they set out into the countryside.  They stopped after an hour or so and sat down on the hill overlooking the city.

            "I am going back home," he stated gravely, staring out over the valley.  "My place is with my brethren, not amongst people who put their women up for auction as if they were horses."

            Aly started.  He was leaving her?  _Now_?  Just when she needed him the most?  "But Nawat, why?"

           He shook his head.  "I cannot watch them chain you to that horrid man, not when the whole thing is my fault.  I will go back, and find another mate in the flock.  Besides, now that the tide is turning against the luarin oppressors, the raka will need all the help they can get from the crows.  I must do my duty to the god."  He held up a hand to silence her.  "I leave tomorrow on a boat bound for Rajmuat, and that's the end of it.  I will give the duchess and the ladies your regards."

            She blinked back tears and sat in silence for several minutes, digesting all that he had said.  She finally succumbed to her emotions and cried, not really wanting to believe him.  

            He put his fingers under her chin and lifted it so that she met his gaze.  He kissed her deeply, and she put her arms around his neck and clung to him, not wanting to let go.  "No," she whispered when he pulled back.  "No!"

            Nawat stood up and brushed off his tunic, a very human-like gesture.  He grasped her hands and pulled her up to her feet.  "I cannot see you again, Aly.  I am leaving tomorrow, but I'm sure our paths will cross.  Remember, we are both tools of the trickster.  He brought us together and he won't allow us to be permanently torn apart.  Until then..."

            He mounted his horse and rode back towards the palace, leaving her on the hillside alone with nothing but her tears for company.

            True to his word, Nawat was gone the next morning when she awoke.  The reality of her situation was sinking in faster and faster.  The earl of Ormane was sickly, and wanted to be able to see his grandchildren before he died.  She had to seek help from _someone_.

            That someone was her old friend Cecila of Althol.  She found her in the rose garden sitting on a bench, trying without much luck to comfort Princess Lianne.  Aly immediately put her own troubles aside and asked Cecila what was the matter.

            Her friend shrugged, gray eyes wide and worried.  "She's been like this for a half hour," she whispered.  "Positively inconsolable!"

            The princess looked up and grabbed Aly's hand.  "Oh, oh, it's _dreadful_!"

            "What's dreadful?"

            "You mean you haven't _heard_?" Lianne wailed miserably.  "I would have thought it would be all over the palace by now!"  She sniffled and breathed raggedly for a few moments before continuing.  "Well, everyone knows that my parents haven't exactly been getting along lately."

            "Now there's an understatement," Cecila muttered.  Although the king and queen's first twenty years had been harmonious, their marriage was starting to fall apart, much to the salacious delight of the courtiers.

            Aly elbowed Cecila sharply and looked back to the princess.  "Of course we all know that.  So?"

            "So earlier this morning, my mother storms in while we're all eating breakfast and goes positively stark raving _mad_, yelling at the top of her lungs that my father is a lecherous, cheating bastard, and that he can go to hell for all she cares.  Then she storms out and was last seen galloping at full speed away from the palace with only a small retinue of her ladies-in-waiting."

            Aly and Cecila exchanged a look.  Neither of them could hardly even begin to imagine Queen Thayet doing such a thing, and they both knew all too well Lianne's tendencies to be...overly dramatic.  It was common knowledge that Jonathan's eye had started to wander, but then again, he was one of the only kings in the Eastern Lands without a full harem of mistresses at his disposal.  His fellow monarchs had forever made jibes about who was really ruling the country: the king, or his infamously headstrong wife?

            The princess stood and wiped her eyes on her sleeves, looking forlorn and a little lost.  "If either of you needs me," she whispered, "I shall be in my chambers.  Good day."

            They waited until she had gotten out of earshot before dissolving into giggles.  Aly took her vacated place on the bench and shook her head in disbelief.  "I wonder how much of this is true.  The gods know I love Lianne, but really.  Sometimes she just makes such a big deal out of _everything_."

            Cecila's face grew solemn.  "She might have exaggerated Thayet's outburst, but by all accounts the queen _did_ leave this morning, and no one seems to know where she's gone."

            "I can't imagine she's so upset about this," Aly mused, leaning back and looking up at the clear blue cloudless sky.  "Jonathan flirts as easily as he breathes, she should know that.  And what king since the beginning of time _hasn't_ taken a mistress at some point in his career?"  She smiled wickedly.  "King Roald doesn't count."

            "He was hardly a king anyway.  Everyone knows his brother-in-law made the decisions."

            They sat in silence for several more moments, enjoying the beauty of the day and the ability to just be in the other's company.

            "Aly?"

            "Hmm?"

            Cecila looked at her earnestly.  "Why did you leave the ball so early last night, and in such a manner?  _Everyone_ was talking about it."

            Aly sighed and crossed her arms.  "It was nothing, only Kentar being his typically annoying self.  Honestly, I don't think I can marry him.  He'll drive me absolutely mad within a month!"

            "Like the queen," her friend replied, giggling.  "I like Kentar; he's always been perfectly nice to me."

            "That's because your parents are _normal_."

            "I like your parents!"

            She gave an unladylike snort of laughter.  "Ha!  You're one of the only ones."

            "Oh, Aly," Cecila sighed exasperatedly, "everyone _likes_ them, they're just sort of...awed by their unconventiality.  I think it's rather charming."

            "Yes, well, I've been paying the price for that 'charming unconventiality' my entire life."  She stood up and smoothed out her skirts.  "It's gotten rather uncomfortably warm out here.  I think I'll go cool off inside."

            "Aly, wait!" Cecila called after her, but she didn't turn around or give any sign of acknowledging that she'd heard her friend.  Instead, she marched purposefully towards the door leading back inside.  So purposefully, in fact, that she failed to see where she was going and collided head-on with someone much taller and more built than she.

            Aly stepped back, slightly dizzy, rubbing her head.  "I'm so sorry," she murmured, dropping a curtsy.  "How unbelievably clumsy of me."

            "It's quite all right," a familiar male voice assured her.  Shaking her head to clear the spinning, she looked up into the face of the king.  "Y-your Majesty..."  She stumbled slightly.

            He caught her elbow and steered her towards the covered walkway connecting two wings of the palace.  He smiled kindly at her as she dropped rather ungracefully onto a seat.  "It's a wonder more ladies don't faint out of doors in this weather.  I can scarcely see how you manage to breathe in that gown."

            She fanned herself vigorously.  "Oh, it doesn't take too long to get used to it, sire.  Just a simple matter of being able to hold your breath for several hours on end."

            Jonathan laughed at that.  "My dear, your ability to find humor in any situation amuses me.  You'll only make yourself hotter doing that, didn't you know?"

            "Of course.  That's why I'm doing it, you see.  That way, when I really _do_ faint, everyone will be terribly worried and they'll pay me a good deal of attention for a few days."  She frowned seriously.  "But then, it's back to being ignored until I find yet another way to place myself in danger.  A vicious cycle, really."

            He reached out and gently patted her shoulder.  For a moment there, Aly thought she saw a strange, not-too-chaste look cloud his eyes, but it was gone the next instant.  She shook her head again, convinced it was the heat.

            "_There_ you are!" Cecila exclaimed, rushing towards them.  The king stepped back and straightened, inclining his head politely.  Cecila's eyes widened and she sunk into a curtsy, lowering her gaze respectfully.

            Jonathan gave a little bow.  "Lady Alianne, Lady Cecila, good day to you both."  

            "Good day to you too, sire," Cecila called.  Once he was out of earshot she turned to her friend and shook her head.  "You'd better watch out.  I saw the way he was looking at you."

            Aly wrinkled her nose.  "Eww!" she squealed girlishly.  "That's absolutely _ridiculous_, Cecila!  Not to mention disgusting!  I mean, he's like my _father_."

            Her friend patted her dark red hair to make sure it was still in place and shrugged.  "Fine, deny it all you want, but I'm just telling you what I saw, and that was no fatherly expression on his face."

            Aly rolled her eyes and stood up, only shaky for a moment on her feet.  "Fine, go ahead and think that.  Just don't divulge your speculations, because the gossips will have me in his bed by dinner tonight."

            When she returned to her rooms that evening to change for dinner, her mother, newly returned from the war, was waiting.  She had previously not spoken a word to her only daughter since her arrival, being extremely angry over the whole situation with Nawat.  Apparently, her sentiments had changed little.

            "What on earth did you think you were doing this afternoon?" Alanna cried as soon as her daughter had shut her bedroom door behind her.  "Flirting and carrying on with the _king_?  Honestly, Aly, that's disgraceful."

            Aly froze in disbelief.  She had been with Cecila since their conversation, so she couldn't have told anyone.  Were their other witnesses who had made a big deal out of nothing?  "I wasn't _flirting_ with the king, Mother, I was being amusing.  There is a great difference."

            "I don't care _what_ you were doing, since the entire court now seems to think you're his latest infatuation!  You could be ruined by this!"

            She glared at her mother, sick of being endlessly berated.  "Jonathan flirts with _every_ girl, so why am I any different?  And since when do _you_ have the right to lecture me on my reputation?"

            "Oh, don't even go there."  Alanna threw up her hands in frustration.  "You've given your father and me more trouble than both of your brothers combined!"

            Aly stepped back, shocked that her mother was willing to play as dirty as she was.  "Oh yes, your little precious _angels_, so innocent, so perfect!  Tumbling girls left and right, drinking themselves senseless, carousing with friends around the city until dawn.  What fine, moral, _upstanding_ behavior that is!  And yet when someone sees me having a humorous conversation with the king and starts some vivious rumor, you act as if I've done _you_ some kind of grievous wrong."  She opened the door.  "Now, if you please, there's a banquet tonight that I need to get ready for.  See if the king looks twice at me!  See if he asks me to dance even once!"

            Her mother stormed out, still angry, and Aly slammed the door after her.  _This is just wonderful,_ she thought disgustedly as she rang for Mora.  _I don't think it could get any worse than this._

            She was right about the banquet at least; Jonathan paid absolutely no attention to her whatsoever.  Aly sat silently, listening to the other ladies at her table go on about the latest piece of gossip.  Occasionally, one of them would sneak a glance at her, which she would return with a bland, innocent smile.  Between courses, Kentar wandered over and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.  Amicably, he asked, "Could I speak with you for a moment?"

            Aly didn't hesitate, smiling sweetly.  "Of course."  She took his arm and they walked casually towards one of the exits, leaving a flurry of whispers and scandalized stares in their wake.

            He led her towards a terrace looking out over the city.  She leaned against the stone rail, enjoying the slight breeze and the warm summer's night.  "If this is about that ridiculous rumor..."

            "You know it is," he interrupted rather rudely.  "I'm just warning you to be careful.  The king changed greatly in your absence, so much so that there are some of us who don't even recognize him to be the same man he once was.  He's aging, and when he looks at the queen he sees her growing older too.  It's a disheartening thing for a man once thought of as the most handsome prince in the Eastern or Southern Lands.

            "He wants to feel young again, don't you see?  And then you return to court, so youthful and beautiful, and he sees in you something of his former self.  You have the same lust for life, the same vigor.  It's almost uncanny."

            Aly raised her eyebrows skeptically.  "And you know this _how_?"

            "Trust me, my lady, I know."  He looked at her earnestly.  "I want you to promise me that you won't let him compromise you."

            "So it's true then," she said quietly, leaning against the railing.  She felt a strange rush of emotions, threatening to engulf her in their enormity.  She waved him away.  "Please, Kentar, go back.  I just need to be by myself right now."

            He bowed slightly and returned indoors, leaving her alone with her thoughts.  She sank to her knees, tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks.

A/N: Before you accuse me of being sick-minded and twisted, remember that the basis for _Trickster's Choice_ and _Trickster's Queen_ is Tudor England, which conveniently happens to be my area of expertise.  I'm just making this fic as Tudor-esque as I hope the real book will be!  It's _so_ Henry and Anne, only I definitely _don't_ plan on him divorcing Thayet/Katherine for her, although you never know where the story might take me.  It has a mind of its own, you see.


	6. Unwelcome Attentions

Chapter Six - Unwelcome Attentions

            Aly returned to the banquet once she could control her emotions and sat down once again among the other young, unmarried ladies.  They looked around at each other uncomfortably and shifted in their seats.  If they had been of lesser breeding, she could have sworn they were fidgeting.  Obviously she had been the topic of conversation moments before.  She shot a look at Cecila across the table, who shrugged back.

            The rest of dinner passed in the same way, the table unusually quiet.  Conversation was strained and the only subjects were of petty, unimportant matters.  Aly was all too glad when the king and Princess Lianne--serving as hostess in her mother's absence--stood, signaling the end of the banquet and the start of the ball.  Together they led the way into one of the ballrooms adjacent to the hall and that portion of the evening had begun.

            She objected none when Kentar sought her hand for the first dance, a long waltz.  It was practically interminable, as every eye on the sidelines of the dance floor was fixed on the two of them.  _I seem to attract scandal_, she lamented silently.  _Life without all this intrigue was certainly less interesting, but far easier._

            Once the set was over, she grabbed her brother's elbow and dragged him to a private alcove.  "Well?"

            "Well what?" Thom asked, annoyed that his conversation with the extremely pretty Lady Lucrezia had been so rudely interrupted.  "In case you hadn't noticed, I was talking to someone."

            Aly scowled at him menacingly.  "You have the rest of the night to seduce her.  I need your advice.  What certain female qualities do men absolutely despise?  I mean, what makes a woman completely undesirable to you?  A woman who is physically perfect."

            He cocked an eyebrow.  "If I could find a physically perfect woman, her personality flaws wouldn't matter in the least."  He frowned slightly.  "Who are you trying to turn away?"

            "The king," she replied matter-of-factly.

            Thom paled and shook his head.  "The king has asked for you?"

            "No, not yet."

            "You can't say no if he does."  Her brother looked past her, deep in thought.  "But you can't do anything while still unwed, and what man would marry you while you are the king's favorite?  Damn, damn, damn, Aly.  What a mess you've gotten us all into."

            "_Us_?" Aly nearly shouted.  "Since when did I do anything to you?  D'you think I wanted this to happen?  I'm the one whose reputation is on the line, you selfish bastard, and all you can think about is yourself!  How typical!"

            He shook his head and walked off, leaving her alone.  For a time, at least.  "I thought I'd find you here," Jonathan said amiably as he sat down on the windowseat next to her.

            "Your Majesty," she replied respectfully, inclining her head.  "You honor me with your presence."

            "And you flatter me with your praise."  He was silent for a few moments.  "I've heard the rumors too, you know."

            "Sire, begging your pardon, but before you go on," Aly interjected, her heart pounding as she said what she knew she needed to, "I beseech you listen to what I have to say.  I am only seventeen, and unwed.  My parents are your close friends and," she lowered her voice slightly, "you were my mother's lover once.  I am but a child, a betrothed one at that, and I do not wish to sully my reputation.  Above all, you are my godsfather, and your wife the queen my godsmother.  I would not hurt her for the riches of all the kingdoms in the world.  Please, do not ask me to do what I cannot."

            The king raised his eyebrows and looked at his hands.  "I would place you on a pedestal, the court would turn about your every whim.  Everyone in the realm would kiss the ground you walked on, and do anything for a chance to touch the hem of your gown as you passed.  I would make you a queen."

            "A false queen," she said tartly.  "Queen for a day, a week, perhaps a month at the most, until you found another girl to admire.  No, Majesty, I will not be your mistress.  I will not be your _whore_.  You have been like a father to me all my life; the very thought is repulsive!  I ask you once more, please do not demand of me what I cannot give you.  I have no desire to be known as the king's concubine.  I do not want my husband to bear the shame of the sons carrying his name actually being your bastards."

            Jonathan stared at her, quite speechless.  It wasn't every day one of his courtiers refused him something that he wanted.  "My lady," he finally managed, changing tactics, "my intentions are hardly what you have so blatantly put forth."

            Aly rose and dropped a deep curtsy, seeing straight through his little ploy.  "By your leave, Majesty."  Without waiting for his permission as required, she turned her back and walked confidentally away, never once looking back at his awestruck face.

            She awoke before dawn the next morning, and was waiting in her father's study when he walked in.  George jumped when he saw her sitting in front of his desk, a frown on her face.  When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand to silence him.  "No, Da, wait.  I came back with you.  I could have stayed in the Copper Isles, I probably should have, but I didn't.  I did what you wanted me to, like a good little girl, and all I've gotten for my obedience is a betrothal to an arrogant prig and the wonderfuly infamy of being the king's latest paramour.  So if you think I'm just going to sit here and let my life be ruined, you're sorely mistaken."

            "Aly, _no_."  He sat down and stared back at her, looking equally serious.

            "I know the risks involved..."

            "You have no clue of the risks involved," he snapped, his voice dangerously quiet.  "The sort of dangers you faced in the Isles, they were _nothing_.  I absolutely refuse to let my daughter be exposed to a world such as this one.  Yes, Aly, you're clever, and you know how to take care of yourself, but you're handicapped by the fact that you've grown up as a noble.  I have only ever allowed you to see part of what goes on, and for a reason.  It's a dirty, dangerous world."

            Aly scowled at him.  "Why won't you just get over the fact that I'm not a child anymore?  I'm seventeen, I can take care of myself!"

            "I said no, and I meant it.  Unless you want to marry Kentar of Ormane within the hour, I'd suggest you not bring it up again."

            She looked away, blinking away tears of frustration and rage.  Her parents were two of the most unconventional rule-breakers in the history of Tortall, and yet they were completely inflexible when it came to her.  Then what her father said hit her: if she were married to Kentar, she would no longer be under their control.  She brightened somewhat.  "Fine, then.  Call him.  I'd rather be his wife and treated like a woman my age than your daughter and treated like a feckless child."

            George looked up from the document he was reading and narrowed his eyes.  "You're up to something, aren't you?"

            "No.  But you told me..."

            "I was exaggerating.  Now, if you don't mind, I..."

            "I will marry him, and I'll marry him now," Aly interrupted, standing up so fast that her head began to spin.  She steadied herself and continued, "Call Kentar.  The earl's dying anyway, he'll want to see the contract actually carried out."  She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

            Mora was preparing one of her gowns when she stormed into the room.  "I need something nicer than that," she said swiftly and breathlessly.

            "My lady?"

            Aly grinned with her casual recklessness.  "I'm about to solve all of my problems.  Well, sort of."

            Dressed in her favorite pale green gown, she tore through the halls towards Kentar's apartments.  Her fiancé was going over reports with his steward when she walked in unannounced and uninvited.  He scowled at her.  "Yes?"

            Aly inclined her head towards his steward and smiled graciously.  "Good sir, I hope you will excuse us for a moment?"

            The man, awestruck, had little option but to nod and bow respectfully.  He exited swiftly, leaving them alone.  Kentar, typically resplendent in a white shirt, scarlet tunic and hose, leaned against his desk and looked at her peevishly.  "Well?  What is so damned important that you can interrupted a meeting with my steward?"

            "I've come to marry you," she answered him baldly.

            He stepped back, taken aback by the bluntness of her reply.  "W-what?  But we weren't supposed to...for months, at least.  No plans have been made."

            She waved his words away.  "Kentar, there are four necessary ingredients for a wedding: a bride, a groom, a priest, and a witness.  Besides, I've found it of late to be advantageous to marry you as soon as possible."  She frowned at his quizzical expression.  "What, at least I'm up front with you about my ulterior motives!"

            He turned away from her and gazed out the window which looked over one of the larger entrance courtyards.  He tensed suddenly as he watched several people dismount.

            "What's wrong?" Aly asked, curious, as she joined him by the window.  It looked like a diplomatic party, and she started to turn away, uninterested, when the strikingly blonde head of one of the arrivals caught her eye.  "Goddess."

            "'Goddess' is right," Kentar replied, his voice troubled and distracted.  He wheeled around and headed towards the door.

            "Where are you going?"

            He pulled his hat to a rakish angle and raised a single eyebrow at her.  "Going to find out why my aunt and uncle have decided to grace us with their royal presence.  Well?  Are you coming?"

            "Kentar, my darling," Imajane said graciously as she opened her arms to embrace him.  "If possible, you've grown even more handsome since I last saw you!"

            "You flatter me, Your Highness."  He nodded respectfully to his uncle Rubinyan, who was in the middle of a confidential conversation with one of the Islander noblemen.  Kentar motioned for Aly to come forward and join him.  "Princess Imajane, might I present my fiancée, Lady Alianne of Pirate's Swoop?  Alianne, this is my uncle's wife, King Dunevon's sister."

            The princess' eyebrows twitched together slightly at her name.  She shot a fleeting glance at her husband, and looked back at Aly.  "How wonderful it is to finally meet you, my dear.  I've heard so much about you!"

            "None of it good, I hope," Aly retorted, keeping her voice light and casual, even as thoughts raced madly about her mind.  The princess laughed appreciatively, fanning herself slightly with a Yamani-style fan.  Then it seemed that something occurred to her, as she immediately brightened.

            "Ah yes.  That reminds me, I would hope that you'd be able to do me a slight favor.  When my dear cousin Mequen died last year, he left behind four children.  I've, ah, taken his two elder daughters under my wing, and they begged me for the opportunity to accompany me on such a journey."  Imajane nodded at a lady-in-waiting, who ran off to do her mistress' bidding.  "The older, Saraiyu, is just about your age.  She'll be thrilled to be introduced to Tortallan culture by someone native to it, especially someone with a...colorful family such as yours."

            Aly ignored the cleverly disguised insult to her parents as she saw Sarai enter the room.  Her friend's eyes lit up when she saw her, but Aly shook her head a fraction of an inch from side to side in warning.

            Imajane gestured for her cousin to come over.  "Saraiyu dear, Lady Alianne has so generously offered to make you feel at home." 

            Sarai dropped a curtsy, inclining her head respectfully.  "I am most grateful, my lady."

            Kentar rolled his eyes at Aly over her head, shaking his head slightly.  Aly ignored him and turned towards the princess with a gracious smile and a deep curtsy.  "Your Highness, by your leave."

            Imajane nodded and began speaking in hushed tones with Kentar.  Sarai, a huge grin on her face, followed Aly out into the hallway.  Once the door had shut behind them, she grabbed her hands excitedly.  "You never told me that you were betrothed to Lord Kentar!  How wonderful!  We'll be able to see each other so much more often now!"

            Aly shrugged, leaning up against a windowsill.  "I won't be seeing the Copper Isles anytime soon.  Kentar intends to have me run his estates in the country, leaving me to rot away from court.  It's no matter.  I'll be old and fat before my time bearing all of those sons he keeps talking about."  There was a sudden flash of color in the corner of her eye, and she looked out the window to see the king surrounded by a few of his councillors.  She cursed inwardly and grabbed Sarai by the elbow, knowing full well that Jonathan was headed straight in their direction.

            Sarai pulled back, rubbing her arm.  "Ow!  What was that for?"

            "We need to get out of here.  _Now_."

            "Well, well, well," Kyprioth said in a smarmy voice.  It appeared to Aly that everything had frozen around them, Sarai even in mid-stride.

            "What do you want?"

            He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, an infuriating smirk on his face.  "Is that any way to speak to a god?  One of the great gods, nonetheless?  Tsk tsk, my dear.  I should teach you proper etiquette."

            "I'd sooner kiss a pig."

            That remark caused him to laugh uproariously, as if she had just told a witty jest.  "I find it funny that no matter what their circumstances, all girls turn into their mothers."

            "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

            "Nothing, nothing," he replied, shaking his head and still smiling.  "So, I must say, you've a good deal on your plate, what with the Islanders in Tortall and the king's er, interest in your affairs."

            Aly froze, suspicion steadily rising.  "What do you know about that?  Last I checked, you weren't too interested in the affairs of this realm."

            Kyprioth blew a kiss at her and disappeared with a pop.  At once, everything started moving again, and Sarai scowled at her petulantly.  Aly shook her head, biting her tongue to keep from exploding in a fit of rage, and started walking quickly.  She hoped that they would turn the corner before the king came inside and was practically running down the hall.

            "Alianne."

            Both girls came to a halt and slowly turned around.  Jonathan was alone now, thankfully, and dressed rather plainly in a blue tunic and hose and a white shirt.  Aly dropped immediately into a low curtsy, afraid that Sarai would not know his identity.  "Majesty," she murmured, eyes downcast.

            Sarai's eyes widened as she mimicked Aly's gesture.  Aly, desperately searching for a stalling point, made the introductions.  "King Jonathan, may I present Lady Saraiyu Balitang of the house of Rittevon?  Sarai, this is His Majesty, King Jonathan of Tortall."

            Jonathan nodded politely to Sarai and turned back to Aly with a smile spreading slowly on his face.  He reminded her of a fox cornering its defenseless prey.  "My lady, I've been looking for you all morning."

            A door opened behind the king, but he didn't notice.  Kentar froze on the threshold when he saw the king.  His look of mixed fury and disbelief was pronounced, his stance immediately defensive.

            Aly had a sudden thought.  She smiled sweetly and adoringly up at Jonathan, the very image of a doting, mindless noblewoman.  "Sire, I have heard that the princess Shinkokami is with child.  My sincerest congratulations!  You must be so excited to be a grandfather."

            The silence was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.  Over Jonathan's shoulder, she could see Kentar's amused grin, and she could feel Sarai's shocked gape.  The king's face was thunderous.  He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into an unused ballroom off of the hallway.  He slammed the door behind them.

            "I am not amused, my _dear_," he hissed through clenched teeth.  "I have offered to give you the world, and you throw my most generous offer back into my face.  I am the king.  No one says no to me, do you understand?  _No one_.  I _will_ have you, do you understand me?"  With that he stormed out, again slamming the door.

            Aly stared into a mirror on the wall and cocked an eyebrow.  "That's what you think," she said to no one in particular.  "You picked the wrong girl to trifle with, Jonathan of Conté."

A/N: Poor Jon.  Unwitting pawn of the gods, making a fool of himself over a teenage girl.  God, this is so _Days of Our Lives_.

Sorry about the wait, by the way.  I've been exceedingly busy lately, what with junior year and all of that fun stuff.  What little time I have after schoolwork is usually dedicated to my social life.

Well, that, and fantasizing about Prince William, but I don't want you all to think I'm _completely_ pathetic.

Which I am, but such is life.

Oh, by the way, if you see one movie this holiday season (er, well, this January season), make sure it's _Cold Mountain_.  Simply amazing, and, yes, much better than _Return of the King_ (which I still enjoyed immensely and thought was absolutely fabulous).  I guess in my book, Middle Earth doesn't hold a candle to Civil War America.


	7. Made Public

Chapter Seven - Made Public

            "My mother is returning to court," Lianne remarked casually one afternoon in the gardens, keeping her eyes on the book she was reading.  "She will be here within a sennight."

            Aly exchanged a look with Cecila and bit her lip.  Gossip must have reached the queen in the north, where she was rumored to be living.  That, or she had decided to beg forgiveness of her husband and subsequently humiliate herself in the eyes of the world.  Aly highly doubted the latter.

            "Why?" one of the other ladies, Margareta of Montavert, asked curiously.

            The princess' face darkened.  "My dear sister Kalasin is coming home for a visit.  Gods have mercy."

            Some of the other girls laughed, but Aly kept silent.  She picked a leaf off of a tree and twirled it around.  Her older brother had recently been to Carthak, but he had not said much of the eldest Conté princess other than that she was well adapted to her new home.  Kalasin, though a few years older, had always been kind, if a little distant.  She wondered why Lianne did not want her sister to return.

            She felt the weight of someone's stare and looked up to meet the gaze of Margareta.  The other girl quickly looked away, but Aly knew why she had been so curious.  Although it was not open knowledge yet, people were starting to talk of the king's sudden interest in her.  Even now, in front of her face, people were whispering behind fans, speculating as to how far it had gotten.

            Sarai had warned her the previous night to remember Bronau.

            "Oh, this is different," Aly had snapped back, sick to death of the whole situation.  "Bronau was some minor prince, a second son, not a king.  And I've refused every offer he's given me, which is more than I can say for you."  She later regretted her harsh words and apologized, but the resemblance between the two scenarios still irked her.

            Someone giggled, and she stiffened.  This was too much.  "Forgive me, but the heat is getting to me," she said, pretending to be unsteady on her feet as she stood.  "I'm feeling rather faint."

            She ignored the flurry of whispers that broke out as she walked quite steadily across the garden, feeling her cheeks burn.  _Curse you, Kyprioth,_ she said silently.  _One day I'll get you for this._

            _I'm sure you will, my darling,_ came the reply.

            Aly found herself heading in the direction of Daine and Numair's apartment, needing someone levelheaded to talk to.

            Gareth of Naxen passed her, balancing several heavy looking books and a stack of parchments, grinning.  Then he spun around.  "Oh, Aly, your mother wants to see you."

            She raised her eyebrow, and he correctly interpreted her look.  "I'm the first person she found, and so I was given this very important task."

            "Ah."  She frowned, her spirits sinking even lower.  Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, her mother had to be thrown into the mix.  "Well, thank you.  I guess I'll go now, since I wouldn't want her to think you hadn't told me."

            "Oh, gods no," Gary quipped.  Then his face grew serious.  "Aly, listen..."  He trailed off, but looked like he truly wanted to say something to her.  "Have a nice afternoon," he finished rather hastily.

            Once he was out of site, she hiked up her skirts and ran.  If Gary knew, everyone knew.  Most unfortunately, her parents certainly knew.

            Aly skidded to a halt in the midst of a chaotic scene.  People were everywhere, talking amongst themselves, and no one noticed her.  It looked as if the Scanran War was finally, truly over.  Most everyone had returned, from the looks of this joyous reunion.  She managed to get around the mass of people and up a staircase.  She gave a huge sigh of relief when she slammed the door to her parents' apartment behind her.

            "So."  Alanna's voice was cold, restrained, as if she truly wanted to scream but was holding herself back with great effort.  "I received a most interesting piece of gossip while away.  Apparently, my _daughter_ has been carrying on with the _king_."

            Aly's jaw dropped.  "That's completely unfair!  I've told him at every turn that he's to keep his distance, that I want nothing do to with him!  Even my own brother told me to say yes, that the king is the king, and one does not simply say no to him!"  She threw herself down furiously in a chair and scowled up at her mother.

            "I had all of this from Thayet."

            A silence followed, drawn out and highly uncomfortable.  Before she could restrain herself, tears began pouring down Aly's cheeks.  Soon she was sobbing uncontrollably, something she hadn't done in years.  When she had her emotions under control, she wiped her eyes and looked up to find that her mother had left.  She set off in the direction of her older brothers' rooms, knowing that she needed someone who cared halfway to talk to.

            She didn't bother knocking and barged right in to see her brother and Sarai jumping apart.  "You've known each other a _day_," she remarked dryly, enjoying seeing them blush.  "A little pathetic, if you ask me.  Anyway, I need to speak with you.  No, Sarai, don't leave.  Please?"

            Thom rolled his eyes and gave her one of those condescending looks that only come from older siblings.  "If you're here to discuss the Jonathan problem, then..."

            "Mother came back, and the queen knows.  A very misconstrued version of the story, but she knows that he's been asking for me."

            Sarai pursed her lips.  "What can you do?  If you anger the king, you might not be the only one to suffer the consequences, and yet..."

            "...if I do what he wants, I'll be known throughout the Eastern Lands as a whore," Aly finished.

            "Marry Kentar," Thom suggested.  "As a cover."

            "Oh, yes, and no one will see through that.  Your brilliance amazes me sometimes."

            His eyes narrowed slightly.  "So I'm not used to coming up with alibis or ways to conceal clandestine acts.  You know, if you're only going to be obnoxious about my suggestions, then leave.  My exams are next week, and I should be studying instead of picking fights with you."

            Aly raised an eyebrow.  "Or involving yourself romantically with a member of the Rittevon family?"  She grinned at Sarai.  "I honestly don't know what you see in him.  He's positively insufferable."

            "Again, I have better things to do," he said in a lofty, superior tone.

            "Fine," she snapped.  "And I hope that next week when you do take your godsforsaken exams that you don't earn a black robe.  Maybe it will take the edge off of your arrogance."

            He threw a look of intense malevolence at her before walking swiftly out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

            When the palace bells rang eight o'clock, Aly slipped out of her rooms.  There was a reception that evening held in honor of the visiting Copper Islanders, but she had feigned a stomachache.  Mora had given her clothes that a common city girl might wear.  They were rather nondescript, and could have belonged to a member of the merchant class or a maid.  Her hair she quickly braided back and tucked under a white kerchief, which she knotted securely and shook her head to test the knot's durability.  

            It wasn't hard getting out of the palace looking like a maid.  She kept her eyes downcast and ducked into the shadows when she saw someone who would recognize her no matter what her clothing happened to be.

            She strolled slowly through the temple district of the city, enjoying the warm night and her short freedom.  Aly knew that when Queen Thayet returned, she would have every right to banish her from court.

            "Thayet won't send you away," Kyprioth piped up as he began walking beside her.  "She knows too well that Jonathan would throw a fit.  Not to mention it would cause a scandal."

            She refused to look at him.  "You are the lowest of things."

            "I'm a trickster, my dear, that's what I _do_.  Besides, your life was so dull I couldn't resist sending you some excitement."  He smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way.  "You have to admit, it was pretty ingenius of me, and you know you'd be laughing if this were happening to someone else."

            "Yes, well, it's not," she snapped.  "The king is married with five children, four of whom are _older_ than I.  Let's think of the worst case scenario and say that he divorces Thayet and marries me.  I'm seventeen with a stepson who is twenty-two, this same stepson whose wife is with child.  So I'd be a grandmother before the age of eighteen.  And what happens if I had children of my own?  They would be worthless, for if Jonathan were to disinherit Thayet's children in favor of _mine_, there would be civil war."

            "You're too hard on yourself."

            Aly snorted and shook her head.  "I know what I am, Kyprioth.  A crown wouldn't change that."

            He was silent for a moment.  "Then what are you, Alianne?"  He disappeared with a pop, leaving her alone in the still summer night.  Even as she began walking towards the city, his question hung in the air.  She stopped in the middle of the marketplace, too bothered by her thoughts to keep walking.  _I'll never be a spy,_ she thought with dismay.  _Maybe that's not the path I'm supposed to take.  But then what is?_

            A quick blur of color flashed in the corner of her eye, and Aly spun around, immediately settling into a defensive stance.  Three dirty, thuggish men grinned leeringly at her.

            "Now tell me, what kind of girl walks about the city at night by 'erself?" the one in the middle asked, taking a step closer.  She winced at the smell of whiskey on his breath.

            "L-leave me alone," she managed, trying to figure out who they were and what they wanted with her.  "I'll scream!"

            The man on the right snorted derisively.  "Scream all ye want, dearie, there ain't no one t'hear ye."  He drew a sword that while was not of good quality would serve its purpose all too well.

            Aly's hands suddenly held two daggers, causing the men to do a double-take.  She scowled at them.  "Try anything, and I'll slice you from nose to navel, scum."

            "Stop," the man on the left ordered.  He stepped between her and his companions so that they could not rush her.  "This one isn't to be harmed."

            "Why not?"

            He jerked his chin back towards her.  "D'you want to keep on livin'?  Then take heed, and don't touch her.  Now be gettin' on, milady, there's bad people about."

            King Jonathan took a weekly ride through the city, to show that he cared for the common people of his kingdom.  Queen Thayet had always rode at his side unless she was away and waved to the crowds who shouted her name and threw flowers as she passed.  As of late, Jonathan had been riding alone with his guards.

            Aly was awoken by Mora early in the morning.  Her maid was nervous, white-faced and trembling, and unusually clumsy.  "Lady Aly," she hissed, "the king is waiting for you.  He has ordered that you go riding with him this morning."

            She flung aside the covers and jumped out of bed.  "Is he mad?  Either he rides with the queen or by himself.  No one else ever goes!"

            Mora shrugged.  She had already laid out Aly's dark green riding habit.  "Oh, Aly, it's awful.  Your lady mother is practically beside herself, going on and on about how this isn't proper."

            Aly kept silent as she was laced into the bodice of the gown.  She could barely breathe her corset was so tight, although she knew this was the fashion.  Mora pinned her hair back and placed the feathered hat on top of her head.  "There," she whispered.  "You look beautiful, my lady."

            She opened the door to a rather uncomfortable scene.  Jonathan smiled at her, but Alanna refused to look at her.  George's eyes were flashing and his face was white.  The king bowed and offered her his arm.  "My lady, it has been so long since I've had company, and I know you enjoy riding."

            Aly kept her gaze straightforward as they walked down to the stables.  She climbed up into the saddle stiffly, causing her mare to shift uncomfortably.  She patted her reassuringly with a gloved hand, trying to control the shakiness of her movements.  Jonathan, looking resplendent in royal blue, was waiting for her in the courtyard atop his black stallion, a restless animal who pawed the ground expectantly.  He grinned.  "Shall we go then?"

            The gates creaked open and they rode out into the city.  The temple district was quiet, but once they reached the residential areas of the city, the crowds thickened quickly.  The king rode every Sunday morning, rain or shine, and the people always turned out to see him.  This week, however, their attention was fixed on the unfamiliar woman at his side.  The residents of Corus had been hoping to see their beloved Thayet once again, but now it was clear that the rumors were true.  Jonathan had fallen in love with another woman.

            The city was deathly silent as they passed through the market, but then people began to mutter darkly amongst themselves.  Who was this mystery woman?  Was she the king's mistress?

            Jonathan reached out and took her hand.  He squeezed it once reassuringly, and gazed hopefully into her eyes.  Aly wanted to shrivel up and die on the spot.

            "Whore!" an old woman suddenly yelled, her voice carrying through the still morning.

            "Gods save Queen Thayet!"

            "King's whore!"

            The people began to cheer fervently for the queen and jeer at Aly.  Jonathan glanced back at the guards.  "We keep riding," he snapped tersely.  "Just ignore them, just ignore them."

            "Long live the queen, and long live the princes and princesses!"

            "What did you expect?" Aly hissed through clenched teeth.  "That they would cheer for me?  You've made me an object of ridicule to this entire city."  A tear slipped down her cheek, but the king either didn't notice or didn't care.

            "Fine then, we'll go back."  He signaled to his guards, and they turned around.  She could feel her face burning with shame.

            A riding party of young noblemen hovered at a distance, and she saw her older brother among them.  Thom looked at her with mixed disbelief and horror.  The others had similar expressions, especially Prince Liam and Prince Roald.  Having Thayet's sons as witnesses to her humiliation was more than she could bear.  "They're right, you know," she snapped at Jonathan.  "You can pretend all you like, but I'd never be anything but your _whore_."

            He looked at her with an earnest expression.  "What if I were free of Thayet?  What if I were to marry you and make you queen?"

            She closed her eyes for a moment.  "No."

            They had reached the palace.  Jonathan dismounted as a hostler held the reins of his horse.  He offered his hand to help her down.  Aly took it, knowing no alternative as she didn't feel like picking a fight.  Once her feet were on solid ground, he leaned over and kissed her, careless of the fact that there were servants all over the courtyard.  "I know it's madness," he whispered, "but I love you, Alianne of Pirate's Swoop.  I love you more than I've ever loved any woman."

            She looked into his eyes and saw sincerity.  There was a hot, swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach as she realized that this was more than just the trickery of a mischievous god.  "I-I..." she trailed off, not really knowing what to say.  Two spots of color burned in her cheeks.  "You have a wife.  You are not free to love."

            His perfectly blue eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Thayet.  "She no longer wishes to be my wife.  She has said this to me."

            Silence stretched between them for several excruciatingly prolonged moments before Aly dropped into a curtsy.  "By your leave, Majesty."  She was halfway to the doors when he called for her to wait.  She turned reluctantly.

            "Just let me hear you speak my name, just once."  For that one moment, she forgot that he was the king of Tortall and her godsfather.  She forgot about Thayet, Roald, Kalasin, and the rest of their children as she saw him standing there, his expression longing.

            "Jonathan," Aly whispered once.  "Jonathan," she repeated, this time more loudly.

A/N: On occasion, my writing makes me positively ill, and this is one of those times.  Ick, ick, ick!  Can you say cheesy romance novel?  Only Aly doesn't realize that she loves him yet.  She's not actually in love with him; more with the idea of him.  She's actually still in love with Nawat, but ssshhh...that's the next chapter.

Oh, yes, another thing.  That part where she goes into the city and is cornered by the three guys but then the one tells them to back off?  That wasn't completely random, I promise.  Really.  It will come back later!


	8. Seen and Heard

Chapter Eight - Seen and Heard

            Aly threw herself facedown onto her bed.  "Kyprioth!" she shouted into the mattress, knowing he would still hear her and, hopefully, answer her summons.

            "I was wondering when I'd hear from you, dearest," the god said suddenly.  She looked up to see him perched on the end of the bed, looking criminally self-satisfied.

            She rolled her eyes.  "Your little joke isn't funny anymore.  You, er, do whatever it is to make the king start behaving like himself again and not a lovesick teenager, and I'll find a way to be useful again.  Are we square?"

            He pretened to consider it for a moment, then smiled and snapped his fingers.  "Done.  And I'd prefer to be triangular, thanks."

            She pushed herself up to a sitting position and raised her eyebrows at him.  "That simple?  Ah, yes," she said when she saw his expression, "you're a god, that's right.  Everything's that simple."  She clambored to her feet and stretched her arms above her head.  "All right, dazzle me with your brilliant scheme."

            Kyprioth shrugged his narrow shoulders.  Although he still his preferred appearance of the gray hair and body of an older man, he was dressed in Eastern-style clothes that could have belonged to a moderately successful artisan or a down-at-the-heels nobleman.  He was completely nondescript.  "The Jimajen boy will prove useful to us, but first we have to draw him to our side."

            Aly crossed her arms and glared at the trickster.  "Explain the collective 'we.'  I'm still not completely convinced that taking part in this will be of any benefit to me."

            "Really?  Because I could make it so that the king regains his interest in you, if that's what you'd like..."

            "No!" she snapped.  "Fine, fine, I'm in, since I have no choice, but I'll remember that you blackmailed me."

            "Extortion, darling."

            "Whatever."  She went into the room that served as her wardrobe and peered around, looking for a suitable gown.  "So when you magically fixed my little problem, did you make sure that everyone else forgot as well?"  She stuck her head around the door and looked at him.  "Well, did you?"

            He looked up, as if startled.  "But of course, dear one."

            "Fine."  She pulled herself back in and grabbed a dark red dress.  "Cut to the chase, Kyprioth, what's the deal?"

            When she came back into her bedroom, he was lounging on her bed, apparently dozing.  He opened one eye.  "That's a nice gown.  Do you have a ball tonight?"

            "A party being given by my future aunt- and uncle-in-law, for, er, well, I'm not exactly sure as to the occasion, but it's going to be very big and important."

            "Hmm, sounds lovely."  He propped himself up on one elbow.  "Your little fiancé..."

            "Kentar," she supplied.

            "Yes, yes, him.  He's going to prove crucial to our plans, because he's our inside link.  Rubinyan and Imajane trust him, but they don't trust you.  Yet.  You must _make_ them trust you."

            "How do I do that?"

            Kyprioth shot her a cryptic smile.  "That, my lady, is completely up to you."  He disappeared into thin air without so much as a noise.

            "Easy enough for you to say," Aly grumbled.  "Gods.  Make a mental note never to get mixed up with them again.  _Ever_."

            The party was lovely, if a little boring, and Aly returned to her bedroom shortly after midnight.  She flopped down onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling.  It appeared that Kyprioth had managed to tangle himself in her affairs once more.  She picked subconsciously at her gown and began to think.

            She sat up, leaning back on her elbows, as there was a light knock on the door.  "Come in," she called, assuming it was Mora or one of her parents.

            A cloaked figure entered the room and shut the door silently.  It pulled down its hood to reveal Kentar, with an unpleasant scowl on his face.  "What is going on?  Yesterday the king was chasing after you while the entire country looked on, and today he doesn't look twice at you and people seem to have completely forgotten?  I might have been born at night, Alianne, but not _last_ night.  What's going on?"

            She sighed heavily and rolled over.  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

            "Try me."

            Aly raised an eyebrow.  "I can't, not right now.  You wouldn't understand."

            He gave a snort of disbelief at that, but didn't snap back as she had expected he would do.  He crossed the room and sat down at the foot of her bed, staring at her expectantly.  Her eyes narrowed, but he stayed put.  "You shouldn't be here," she hissed finally.  "I could be ruined."

            "Not that you'd really give a damn," Kentar retorted.  "Anyway, we're engaged, so it would be oh-so-nicely overlooked by most."

            She inched herself slightly over and kicked him with her right leg.  It was hard enough that he went tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud thump.  Mora came rushing through the door.  "My lady?" she asked, and stopped when she saw Kentar pulling himself up off the ground.  She immediately looked accusingly at Aly and offered him a hand up.  "My lord, a pleasant surprise."

            Kentar brushed off his clothes and bowed.  "I was just leaving.  Goodnight to you, mistress, and to you, Lady Alianne."

            "Goodnight, my lord Kentar," Aly replied frostily, glaring at his back as he shut the door behind him.  "It wasn't what you think," she said to Mora, who was staring at the door with a look of utter disbelief.  The maidservant turned back and looked at her with skepticism.

            "Well, it's not," Aly said again.

            "That's what they all say, m'lady," Mora muttered as she swept a curtsy.  "Goodnight."

            In her dreams, Aly ran through a forest as if being chased by someone.  Her breath grew shorter and her muscles strained, but she felt as if she couldn't stop running.  Around her, the trees began to thin, and the area around her grew brighter.  She came skidding to a halt at the edge of a cliff, trying to catch her breath as she watched clods of dirt disappear into the mists below.  She turned around to face her persuer and...

            "Aly!  Aly!" a familiar voice hissed into her ear.  "Aly, wake up!"

            She opened her eyes slowly, blinking, and glared at Sarai.  "It isn't even dawn.  What in the name of Mithros are you doing?"

            Sarai looked at her with a somewhat frightened expression.  "It's the earl of Ormane," she said finally.  "He's gone stark-raving _mad_!"

            Aly sat up and swung her legs around so she could stand up.  She pulled a dark blue dressing gown over her nightgown and fastened it securely.  She grabbed a brush and tugged it through her hair quickly.  "Where is he?"

            "Near the hall of crowns."

            She frowned at that.  "What in the world is he doing there?"  They began to walk swiftly but silently.  They snuck out into the hallway and took off at an even faster pace, though Sarai struggled slightly to keep up.  They rushed down a flight of stairs, Aly almost losing her balance on the landing.  Sarai grabbed her elbow to steady her, and they exchanged a grin.

            The pair practically ran down a corridor containing the portraits of the current monarchs and heads of state in the other realms of the Eastern and Southern Lands.  Even little Dunevon's likeness was there, although he was not alone in the picture: co-regents Rubinyan and Imajane stood imposingly behind the young boy.  Aly and Sarai barely gave the painting a glance as they neared the hall of crowns.  Snippets of what sounded like a shouting match could be heard, becoming clearer and clearer as they approached.

            The scene was an unnerving one; Kentar, still in clothes from earlier, stood at a distance with Imajane, while Rubinyan tried to calm his brother-in-law.  The earl hurled a priceless Carthaki vase at the wall and looked for another potential missile.  Aly's eyes widened when she saw the foaming at his mouth and the almost rabid look to his eyes.  She exchanged a quick glance with Rubinyan, which told her everything.

            Duke Baird of Queenscove rushed in, looking as if he had just thrown on the clothes he'd grabbed first.  Behind him trailed several other healers and a rumpled-looking Jonathan.

            "You'll never take me alive!" the earl bellowed at the top of his lungs when two of the apprentice healers tried to approach him, speaking in low, soothing voices.  At this, they stopped and looked at Duke Baird for direction; none of them had ever dealt with a completely mad patient before.  Kentar started to move in his father's direction, but stopped at a look from the king.  Jonathan shook his head slightly from side-to-side, though his expression dared Kentar to defy him.

            Kentar refused to take the bait, and with a resigned sigh, he moved back to his aunt, though not before acknowledging Aly and Sarai with a little nod.

            Sarai leaned over and hissed into Aly's ear, "Is he possessed?"

            Aly shrugged, her eyes not leaving the earl, who was now brandishing his sword at the healers.  "Get away from me, rabid curs!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.  "Begone!"  His eyes flashed, and he turned the sword around.  He looked directly at Kentar and said quite clearly and calmly, "I would rather spill my own blood than admit defeat."  He plunged the blade into his abdomen and doubled over, sinking to his knees.  Imajane shrieked and her husband rushed to his brother-in-law's side.  Rubinyan pushed the healers aside and knelt down next to the earl.

            "H-he's dead," he said shakily.  One of the healers bent over to get a closer look and stood up, nodding.

            Jonathan shut his eyes and made the Sign on his chest.  He opened his eyes and saw Aly and Sarai in the corner, clutching their robes, with pale faces and wide eyes.  "Gods, this was no sight for ladies.  Princess..."

            "Of course, Jonathan," Imajane replied.  She swept across the hall towards Aly and Sarai, motioning for the two girls to follow her.  "Oh, but you must be traumatized to see such an awful thing at such a delicate age."

            _I've seen worse_, Aly thought but did not say out loud.  She left Imajane and Sarai at the entrance to the royal guest wing, exchanging the proper expressions of empathy and sadness, and continued through the dark halls to her own bed.  She yawned widely as she snuck back in, and to her great luck, no one was awake in the household.

            She climbed under the covers and lay for a few moments, contemplating what she had just seen.  Lord Ormane's suicide had been completely bizarre, as he had seemed perfectly fine at the party earlier.  Surely Kentar would have mentioned his father's odd behavior, or it would have been remarked upon by the gossips.  Perhaps Sarai's guess had been correct, and the earl was possessed by some sort of demon or vengeful god.

            Aly sighed deeply and rolled over onto her side.  _I'll think about it in the morning,_ she promised herself, and went to sleep.

            In her dreams, she found herself standing in a large, cavernous room.  Its high ceiling was supported by ornately-carved columns arranged in two rows down either side.  The floor was cool marble, the perfect temperature for her bare feet.  Sunlight streamed in from somewhere, and a warm breeze carried the scent of roses and the sea.  Aly inhaled several times, never tiring of the smell.  At the other end of the room, two people were engaged in what looked like a heated discussion.  She approached cautiously, staying behind columns as to remain unseen.

            "...not supposed to interfere," Kyprioth was saying, his voice raised in anger.  "This is my affair!"

            A stooped old woman wearing a ragged black cloak smiled up at him with the ugliest, yet strangely arresting, face Aly had ever seen.  "Oh, but my dear, it's ever so fun to meddle in the affairs of my brothers and sisters.  Your reactions are positively priceless.  Ormane's death means nothing."  Aly's eyes widened as she realized what they were talking about.

            "Oh, his death changes everything and you know it.  His son will be my undoing, I can just tell."

            "Well," the goddess replied, sticking out her chin stubbornly, "that's your problem.  Besides, you deserve to have a few obstacles thrown your way.  It's good for the complexion."

            Aly opened her mouth to speak and found herself sitting up in bed, sweating.  So the stakes were rising; Kyprioth's attempts at keeping his plans secret had backfired.  She glanced towards her door, adrenaline starting to pump through her veins.

            She loved a challenge.

A/N: I am the lowest of things, I know, and I haven't updated this in forever.  Not to mention this chapter is horrid, I'm sorry.  Now that I'm finished with my junior year and summer is in full swing, I should have a lot more time to write.  Again, my sincerest apologies!


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